Chapter 2 : Getting Close

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar place. I looked around, my vision blurring slightly as the stark white ceiling came into focus.

"Woke up, finally."

I tilted my head toward the seriously sweet sound of the voice.

Alex was sitting right there beside the bed, looking at me without a single shred of expression. "You had a panic attack. We brought you to the hospital," he stated flatly.

I sat up slowly, clutching the scratchy blanket, feeling a deep wave of embarrassment wash over me. "I'm sorry, I..."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You should be sorry, Ms. Barrett. You are here to look after me. Now what? Do I have to look after you instead?"

I gripped the hospital bedsheet tightly. I was seeing a new face on him every time we interacted. One moment he was relatively nice the next, he was as cold as ice.

"Well... are you suffering from some kind of clinical depression?" he asked after a long, awkward beat of silence. I glanced up at his face. It bore the exact same nonchalant expression neither his previous playful smile nor any visible anger. it's something... something that i refused to knowledge.

I nodded slowly. "Sorry for hiding it." It was the truth. I had been receiving counseling ever since that incident, but even now, there was no real change. The occasional panic attacks and sudden crying still came out of nowhere.

"What else are you hiding, Ms. Barrett? You know you are being handsomely paid for what you are doing, and I don't particularly like people who keep secrets from me."

At his words, my heart began to race all over again. A suffocating tightness gripped my chest, making it hard to even draw a breath. I wasn't ready to talk about it. I couldn't. What should I do? I pressed a hand against my chest, breathing heavily as panic threatened to pull me under again.

"Take your time. I'm not pressuring you," he said, his voice returning to that same eerie calmness. "But we can't move forward while you keep hiding things like this."

Despite his coldness, I felt a sudden wave of gratitude toward him in that moment for sparing me from further interrogation.

Fortunately, I was discharged quickly and thrust right back into my new life as the wife of a disabled man. To be honest, I despised it at first showering a grown man, handling his every intimate need, even feeding him and meticulously remembering his medication schedule. We never spoke like we had that first night, and he never smiled at me like that again. Not that I cared. I reminded myself daily that I was only here for the money.

Today, just like every other day, I was resting in our room after finishing his afternoon routine. Suddenly, the door swung open and Erica stepped inside. This was the one thing I hated most about this place her constant, unannounced interference. She moved in and out of our room as if it were her own private room, and Alex never did anything to restrict her.

"Ms. Barrett, you need to attend a banquet tonight. Get ready," she announced, her voice dripping with condescension. "It's a high-profile business banquet, so please try to exhibit some class."

I had felt her intense dislike for me from the very first day. I set my jaw and stood up. "It's Mrs. Danvers to you, Ms. Davis. And for the last time, you don't need to teach me a single thing about class."

I might tolerate Alex's moods because he was my employer, but I certainly didn't need to take the garbage she was throwing at me.

She arched a single brow, letting out a mocking scoff. "Oh? You think you know about class? A beggar on the street has more elegance than you, Ms. Barrett."

A sharp, dangerous smirk curled onto my lips as I walked directly up to her. "You truly have no idea who I was in the past, do you? Not that I care to flaunt it, but my lineage is infinitely better than that of a desperate slut like you."

Her face twisted, turning a violent shade of red. "You... how dare you!"

"And remember, it's Mrs. Danvers, not Ms. Barrett," I driven the point home, my voice dropping to a whisper. "For someone who equates a person to a beggar, I don't think you have the authority to teach anyone about class. Whatever petty hatred you have toward me, drop it. You won't win."

Furious, she raised her hand to strike me. But my reflexes kicked in. I caught her wrist mid-air, swinging my other arm aggressively toward her face to slap her. She flinched violently, squinting her eyes and trembling in terror.

But as I looked at her cowering face, a horrific hallucination flashed before my eyes.

"Cassie, please leave me alone! I'm sorry... I won't do it again, please!"

My eyes flew wide open. I stumbled backward, completely letting go of Erica, and slapped my hands over my ears to escape the phantom voice echoing in my head. My heart hammered violently against my ribs. What am I doing? How dare I raise my hand to someone's face like that? Why did I speak so ruthlessly?

No, no... I wasn't that cruel person anymore. I refused to be. Tears began to flood my eyes against my will. "I'm sorry, Ms. Davis... I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry..." I collapsed to the floor, my gown pooling around me, just as the door opened and Alex wheeled himself into the room.

Erica swallowed hard, her expression a mix of confusion and pure panic. "Alex, I..."

He didn't let her finish. With a single, piercing glare from his dark eyes, he silently ordered her out. She scrambled out of the room immediately.

I frantically wiped at my streaming tears, my voice breaking. "I didn't mean to... I'm not that person anymore. I promise I won't be that person. I didn't think she would do that... Forgive me, God, I didn't mean to..." I began to chant the apologies like a mantra, completely spiraling.

"You're okay. I know you didn't do anything wrong. Stop crying."

His voice washed over me like a sweet, grounding melody. I snapped my head up, looking at him through bleary eyes.

"I... I'm sorry," I said, scrambling frantically to my feet. "Do you need something?"

"Take some rest," he murmured, his gaze softening slightly. "You don't have to come to the banquet tonight."

A knot of confusion tightened in my chest. "Why? I'm okay. I can attend. I... I just.."

He let out a quiet sigh. "You're not okay, Cassie. I can see that. So why don't you just.."

"Why? Do I look like a madwoman to you?" I interrupted, the raw emotion bubbling over before I could stop it. "Or do you also think I don't have any class? Fine. I understand. I'll stay home." I didn't know why I was getting so defensive and emotional, but for the first time, I couldn't mask it the way I usually did.

He stared at me in absolute silence for a long moment, evaluating my outburst. Finally, he broke the silence. "We'll leave at eight." With that, he turned his chair and left the room.

I covered my burning face with my hands, feeling incredibly annoyed with myself. Why did he always have to see me at my most vulnerable? I was absolutely certain he thought I was completely losing my mind.

By the time eight o'clock rolled around, I had changed into a stunning, strapless yellow gown that hugged my curves perfectly. I actually despised the color yellow, but satisfying my employer's preferences was part of the contract.

Now came the difficult part: changing him into his formal suit. But before I even touched the clothes, I decided to execute a little plan of my own. Armed with a razor and a can of shaving cream, I knelt directly in front of his wheelchair. I completely ignored the intense glare he was shooting down at me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he just couldn't take his eyes off me because of how good I looked in the gown.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice dripping with annoyance.

I glanced up at him innocently. "Cutting my nails. Can't you see what I'm doing? I'm giving you an upgrade."

"I don't need an upgrade. We're already late. Just put the suit on me, that's all I need."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear anything. I think I'm going deaf. Did you say something?" I fired back playfully, forcefully slathering the white shaving cream all over his stubborn chin.

"Cassie Barrett, mind your own business," his voice raised, a rare flash of genuine anger breaking through his calm facade. "Do you think just because I give you a little freedom around here, it means you can interfere in my personal matters? Do the exact job I am paying you for."

His words stung, cutting straight through my playful mood, but I refused to back down. "I am doing exactly what I was brought here for," I retorted, leaning in close. "Taking care of you is my duty, and hygiene is the absolute first step. Your beard is practically longer than my hair. I'm just kidding, but it's still way too long. So shut your mouth and let me do my job, dear husband."

He opened his mouth to snap back, but the moment I leaned in and positioned the sharp razor near his jaw, he quickly thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. I let out a malicious little hum of satisfaction. "Want to say something else?"

He stayed completely still. I began my work carefully, scraping away the rough hair until he was given a perfectly clean shave. Holy mother... I stared at him. I knew it. I had always known beneath the mess that he was incredibly handsome. But I didn't stop there. I grabbed a pair of scissors to trim his overgrown hair. Even though he started swearing and muttering curses under his breath making my ears practically bleed—I finished the haircut anyway.

Finally, I dressed him in his sharp black suit and pushed his wheelchair toward the full-length mirror.

He stared at his reflection as if he were looking into an entity from different universe. I leaned over his shoulder, a proud smile breaking across my face. "Shall we go, my handsome husband?"

His lips tilted up into a faint, genuine smile. "Cassie..."

"Hmm?" I hummed, distracted as I reached for my clutch and packed it with his emergency pills.

"Thanks for being here with me," he said softly.

The words were spoken almost soundlessly, but I heard them perfectly clear. A smile tugged at my lips against my will, and a sudden warmth rushed to my cheeks. No, don't you dare blush, I scolded myself. I truly had no idea what this man was doing to my sanity.

We arrived at the banquet incredibly late. I was fully prepared to brace myself for the elite guests' judgment, but to my surprise, Alex remained completely unfazed and calm. He immediately engaged in smooth business talk with people I didn't know. I remained dutifully by his side. Honestly, I shouldn't have come,the party was incredibly boring. However, I always enjoyed observing people, so I focused my attention on the crowd.

Nearby, a lady was talking to a man. She looked absolutely furious, and the man looked completely terrified, sweating through his collar. Definitely husband and wife, I thought. It was almost cute to see how much power she held over him.

"Found something appealing to your eyes?"

I tilted my head up to find a pair of intense eyes staring down at me.

I smiled quickly. "It's nothing."

"Want to go out?" he asked, his gaze drifting over to the bickering couple I had been watching.

"No, of course not. I'm perfectly fine here, we don't have to leave on my account..."

"It's not for you. I want to go out," he clarified, keeping his eyes fixed on them.

A few minutes later, we left the stuffy hall. As we began walking down the quiet, brightly lit street, a dull ache started radiating through my legs. My feet were becoming completely numb and sore from the high heels I was wearing, and I could already feel the straps scratching painfully against my skin.

"Can't walk?" Alex asked, suddenly halting his automatic wheelchair and looking back at me.

I looked down at my painful shoes. "It's nothing. I'll manage."

He let out a soft, melancholic smile. "If I were able... I would have lifted you up so you wouldn't have to walk on sore legs."

I tilted my head toward him, a playful chuckle escaping my lips to hide how touched I was. "Why, Mr. Danvers. Why so romantic today?"

"If I'm not romantic, who else is going to show love to my wife?"

"Do you love me?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them. It was a complete mistake born from a stupid, thoughtless tongue.

Alex froze, staring at me for a long, heavy second without saying a word. Great. I had officially made him uncomfortable. What a brilliant thing to ask, Cassie, I chided myself, quickly averting my eyes to hide my embarrassment. "Haha... well, you said you would have carried me if you could walk, right?"

He let out a slow sigh. "Yeah. But what can we do..."

Before he could even finish his sentence, I stepped forward, turned around, and sat down directly onto his lap. I kicked off my painful heels, catching them in my hand, and wrapped my other arm securely around his neck. "This counts too, right?"

Alex's eyes widened. "Cassie, what are you..."

"What's wrong, Mr. Romantic? Do I feel too heavy?" I teased, leaning into his shoulder. "But I think you explicitly said before you can't feel anything from the waist down anyway. Now, let's go!"

He let out a defeated sigh, though a tiny smile played at the corner of his lips as he gave up arguing. He pressed the joystick, and the automatic wheelchair began moving smoothly down the street. I let out a bright scream of laughter, holding onto him tightly as the wind caught my silver hair.

The few street vendors we passed peeked out from their stalls, likely staring Maybe because they had never seen a sight like this before. Well, it was a first-time experience for me too.

I felt incredibly close to him that night. I realized then that you don't need a long time to grow close to the person who is truly meant for you. And Alex... he was someone who noticed absolutely everything about me, without me ever having to say a single word.

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